A week ago today Mac had his vasectomy procedure done (and the crowd goes wild!!). A couple of days before the vasectomy we both realized, that with a few exceptions, we pretty much hadn't told anyone about it. Since we live half a day ahead of most of our friends and family we both posted statuses on facebook (aka the debil) to catch everyone up to speed about this, the biggest life changing event in our lives, and without fail our friends proved to be as awesome as ever. Well, mine were awesome as ever, Mac's were.....well they're his friends. I'll post some highlights after I post each of our statuses.
My status read:
"Well, we've kept this a secret long enough..... here goes: on Thursday Mac will be going in and officially making us a one & done family! He has his vasectomy appointment in the morning. Sorry to everyone back home who was out of the loop on this, that wasn't intentional, it really was something we just realized today we forgot to let people know about. Opps!!"
My friends and family responded positively and humorously, reminding us to clear the reserves before going commando! Very supportive of our choice to remain one and done. I had only 7 total comments on this status. Fewer than I'd expected but seeing as how they were all positive and supportive, I'm appreciative of those 7 comments. You'll see where I'm going with this in a moment.
Mac's status read:
Its cool cuz you can change your mind down the road and it's not hard for you up get it reversed.
This is devastating news!
Awwww no lil brother or sister for Nixon?!???! (I'm sad because I actually like this person!)
But then there were a couple wonderfully supportive friends of his who understood this was a decision made between us and who offered kind words of wisdom.
The point is, MY friends rock and Mac's not so much!! NO, I'm kidding. The point is, even now, a week after the procedure, my brother-in-law asked if Mac stored any "juices" for "you know later uses" because apparently this whole one-and-done concept is just not quite as easy to understand as we thought it would be, you know, after the vasectomy was done.
The vasectomy itself was not as easy for Mac as it was supposed to be. Big shocker, given our history as a couple and big steps. There's a story for another day, but the gist is....this is not as totally unexpected as it should be, this is our life together from day one.
Mac is recovering and Nixon is dealing with Mac not being able to lift him up. Nixon knows Mac has an "owie" and he's been okay with that he's even told me a few times "Mommy dadda have a owie" which is totally unnecessary, because I am well aware of Mac's owie and the backache lifting Nixon non-stop for a week now has given me! But that Nixon feels the need to tell me of Mac's owie is touching and sweet so I thank him for telling me and I ask him to give Mac a hug and be kind to Daddy since he has an "owie".
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
C'mon mommy, like this
Nixon's become quite the bossypants lately. I believe he inherited that gene from me. The bossypants gene is very closely tied to the overbearing bitch gene, which everyone knows is my dominant gene!
Our car rides now sound like this:
"That way, Mommy"
"NOOOOOO! That way!"
"Go Mommy. Go now!" By the way, that gem was said at a red light while there were cars in front of me all waiting for the same red light to turn green. But none of that mattered to Nixon. He wanted to go.
At home Nixon is still refusing to potty train. But he does now insist that all diaper changes include BeBe (he beloved teddy bear) getting wiped and the occasional diaper on too. And heavens help us if I forget. "Mommy BeBe too! BeBe wipee too! NOW!" After I give him my best say-please-or-I'll-eat-you stare he usually says "pease BeBe wipee Momma" knowing the momma is magic in this house.
Nixon is also demanding when it comes to his dance music. Today Mac put on P!ink's "Raise Your Glass" and Nixon started his usual headbob. Then Mac joined in. Nixon noticed I wasn't doing it so he said to me "C'mon mommy, like this" and slowly shows me how to bob my head like he and Mac were doing it. He refused to stop doing it until I started doing it with them.
Since he's figured out how to open doors, he has decided everything is fair game for him. Even the closet where all his toys go when they're taken away from him. The closet that all his art supplies are in, which explains why he came to me at 8 o'clock last night and wanted to finger paint! Instead he colored with markers. I also have to make sure Mac doesn't accidentally bring both sets of keys to work with him since Nixon locked his bedroom door from the inside and couldn't unlock it. Thankfully, we have a key that unlocks all the bedroom doors...as long as I have one of the sets of keys at home with me.
Life is fun even if Nixon is battling me for most stubborn person in the house.
Our car rides now sound like this:
"That way, Mommy"
"NOOOOOO! That way!"
"Go Mommy. Go now!" By the way, that gem was said at a red light while there were cars in front of me all waiting for the same red light to turn green. But none of that mattered to Nixon. He wanted to go.
At home Nixon is still refusing to potty train. But he does now insist that all diaper changes include BeBe (he beloved teddy bear) getting wiped and the occasional diaper on too. And heavens help us if I forget. "Mommy BeBe too! BeBe wipee too! NOW!" After I give him my best say-please-or-I'll-eat-you stare he usually says "pease BeBe wipee Momma" knowing the momma is magic in this house.
Nixon is also demanding when it comes to his dance music. Today Mac put on P!ink's "Raise Your Glass" and Nixon started his usual headbob. Then Mac joined in. Nixon noticed I wasn't doing it so he said to me "C'mon mommy, like this" and slowly shows me how to bob my head like he and Mac were doing it. He refused to stop doing it until I started doing it with them.
Since he's figured out how to open doors, he has decided everything is fair game for him. Even the closet where all his toys go when they're taken away from him. The closet that all his art supplies are in, which explains why he came to me at 8 o'clock last night and wanted to finger paint! Instead he colored with markers. I also have to make sure Mac doesn't accidentally bring both sets of keys to work with him since Nixon locked his bedroom door from the inside and couldn't unlock it. Thankfully, we have a key that unlocks all the bedroom doors...as long as I have one of the sets of keys at home with me.
Life is fun even if Nixon is battling me for most stubborn person in the house.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Teething Archives
**originally written and posted May 26th, 2009**
It's just after 9pm here. Nixon is finally asleep! I'm.....well, I'm recovering. To all my mommy's-to-be, just baking babies right now...you might not want to read this. If you choose to...you've been warned and I will not be held accountable for the emotional meltdown that reading this may cause.
That being said....
The last 2 weeks I've had my routine. Nixon's gums were hard and you could see the teeth threatening to poke through. I decided to do everything I can to make it as painless as possible. That meant holding frozen teething rings for him, putting washcloths in the freezer for him to chew on, letting him chew my finger when we were in the car and even putting his bottle nipples in the freezer while I was warming up his formula just so he had a cold surface on his tender gums. I gave him Tylenol and teething tablets 3 times a day. I was golden! I was calm and prepared.
I was wrong!
This morning, while giving him his teething tablets (moms-to-be stock up on these things, they are a life saver!!!) I felt something that hadn't been there before. Nixon's first tooth came through!!! I saw the white amid the pink of his gums. I'd done it! I was the most amazing mother ever!! My son broke his first tooth and didn't even notice!!! Man, I was ready to have 1000 more babies, cause I now had motherhood down!
We ran errands, had lunch out and came home. Nix went down for a nap and so did Mac. I watched Gilmore Girls and just reveled in my skills as a mother.
Nixon started getting a little fussy around 730pm after Mac left for work. I took him into our bedroom while I worked in there for a bit. About 5 minutes later,my smiling happy baby boy was abducted and a screaming monster child was left in his place! His face was bright red and he was taking huge gulps of air between screams! I picked him up and tried everything that usually relaxes and calms him. Nothing was working. "Uncle" David Bowie failed me. Swinging him side to side, failed me. Making silly faces and sounds, failed me. Chewing my finger, failed me. No matter what I did he wasn't being comforted.
All my newfound mommy confidence went out the window and it was replaced by a desperate need to comfort my son and make the pain stop. In a last ditch effort, I left him in our pompasan chair and RAN into the laundry room to get Beary (who was in the wash because earlier today Nixon threw him on the driveway) and brought him out to Nixon. Nixon (usually very happy and throwing arms out to get Beary) sat there, tears still rolling down his cheeks, bottom lip out and quivering, looked at me and Beary....and screamed some more! I put Beary in Nixon's arms and his ear near Nixon's open mouth. During a break from screaming to take a big deep breath, Nixon's mouth closed on Beary's ear. Nixon stopped crying! He still whimpered and sighed, but no screaming. I took advantage and made him a bottle, the nipple had been in the freezer for 15 minutes now.
Around 845pm he was quiet.
I picked up my somber baby and went to the loveseat to give him his bottle. Beary never left our arms! Nixon settled in for the bottle....and all hell broke loose again! The screaming, crying and red face all reappeared! I grabbed the Tylenol and gave him some. I put the teething tablets in his mouth and rubbed the resulting paste on his gums. He relaxed enough to take half his bottle. I held him, stroked his arm softly, sang my silly nonsensical songs to him and also sang "twinkle, twinkle little star"more times than I can count. That song has a magical calming spell on my son. I have his aquarium mobile set to that song, I have a toy lion that plays that song and I will sing that song a million times, if that's what it takes to get him to calm down!
Finally, by 9pm on the dot, his eyes were drooping, his tears were dry and we had survived! I gave him kisses, put his diaper clad self in his crib and turned on his aquarium. I also left Beary with him, cause you never know when a teething child will need something to bite on.
I realized one thing tonight. Despite my recent thoughts of wanting another child....it will never happen...NEVER!!! I couldn't handle going through that again. The sleepless nights, the completely helpless infant stage, the back labor, the constant kicking in the same spot, the morning sickness...these are all things that I consider every time I think of wanting another one. But tonight...that's the deciding moment. I felt so helpless just letting my poor pain ridden child cry and scream knowing there was NOTHING I could do to make any of it better. I can't do that again, and shipping a teething child to grandma's house hardly seems fair, so not an option.
Nixon's been asleep for almost an hour now..One more cup of coffee and I should be fine.
Good goddess above....I have no idea what I'm doing as a mother! But the good thing is...Nixon doesn't know that. That's why he smiles when he sees me in the morning, giggles when we play our diaper game and reaches for me when he's been out of my arms for too long. I'm his mother, his rock, his whole world....and I'm pretty damned good at it!
It's just after 9pm here. Nixon is finally asleep! I'm.....well, I'm recovering. To all my mommy's-to-be, just baking babies right now...you might not want to read this. If you choose to...you've been warned and I will not be held accountable for the emotional meltdown that reading this may cause.
That being said....
The last 2 weeks I've had my routine. Nixon's gums were hard and you could see the teeth threatening to poke through. I decided to do everything I can to make it as painless as possible. That meant holding frozen teething rings for him, putting washcloths in the freezer for him to chew on, letting him chew my finger when we were in the car and even putting his bottle nipples in the freezer while I was warming up his formula just so he had a cold surface on his tender gums. I gave him Tylenol and teething tablets 3 times a day. I was golden! I was calm and prepared.
I was wrong!
This morning, while giving him his teething tablets (moms-to-be stock up on these things, they are a life saver!!!) I felt something that hadn't been there before. Nixon's first tooth came through!!! I saw the white amid the pink of his gums. I'd done it! I was the most amazing mother ever!! My son broke his first tooth and didn't even notice!!! Man, I was ready to have 1000 more babies, cause I now had motherhood down!
We ran errands, had lunch out and came home. Nix went down for a nap and so did Mac. I watched Gilmore Girls and just reveled in my skills as a mother.
Nixon started getting a little fussy around 730pm after Mac left for work. I took him into our bedroom while I worked in there for a bit. About 5 minutes later,my smiling happy baby boy was abducted and a screaming monster child was left in his place! His face was bright red and he was taking huge gulps of air between screams! I picked him up and tried everything that usually relaxes and calms him. Nothing was working. "Uncle" David Bowie failed me. Swinging him side to side, failed me. Making silly faces and sounds, failed me. Chewing my finger, failed me. No matter what I did he wasn't being comforted.
All my newfound mommy confidence went out the window and it was replaced by a desperate need to comfort my son and make the pain stop. In a last ditch effort, I left him in our pompasan chair and RAN into the laundry room to get Beary (who was in the wash because earlier today Nixon threw him on the driveway) and brought him out to Nixon. Nixon (usually very happy and throwing arms out to get Beary) sat there, tears still rolling down his cheeks, bottom lip out and quivering, looked at me and Beary....and screamed some more! I put Beary in Nixon's arms and his ear near Nixon's open mouth. During a break from screaming to take a big deep breath, Nixon's mouth closed on Beary's ear. Nixon stopped crying! He still whimpered and sighed, but no screaming. I took advantage and made him a bottle, the nipple had been in the freezer for 15 minutes now.
Around 845pm he was quiet.
I picked up my somber baby and went to the loveseat to give him his bottle. Beary never left our arms! Nixon settled in for the bottle....and all hell broke loose again! The screaming, crying and red face all reappeared! I grabbed the Tylenol and gave him some. I put the teething tablets in his mouth and rubbed the resulting paste on his gums. He relaxed enough to take half his bottle. I held him, stroked his arm softly, sang my silly nonsensical songs to him and also sang "twinkle, twinkle little star"more times than I can count. That song has a magical calming spell on my son. I have his aquarium mobile set to that song, I have a toy lion that plays that song and I will sing that song a million times, if that's what it takes to get him to calm down!
Finally, by 9pm on the dot, his eyes were drooping, his tears were dry and we had survived! I gave him kisses, put his diaper clad self in his crib and turned on his aquarium. I also left Beary with him, cause you never know when a teething child will need something to bite on.
I realized one thing tonight. Despite my recent thoughts of wanting another child....it will never happen...NEVER!!! I couldn't handle going through that again. The sleepless nights, the completely helpless infant stage, the back labor, the constant kicking in the same spot, the morning sickness...these are all things that I consider every time I think of wanting another one. But tonight...that's the deciding moment. I felt so helpless just letting my poor pain ridden child cry and scream knowing there was NOTHING I could do to make any of it better. I can't do that again, and shipping a teething child to grandma's house hardly seems fair, so not an option.
Nixon's been asleep for almost an hour now..One more cup of coffee and I should be fine.
Good goddess above....I have no idea what I'm doing as a mother! But the good thing is...Nixon doesn't know that. That's why he smiles when he sees me in the morning, giggles when we play our diaper game and reaches for me when he's been out of my arms for too long. I'm his mother, his rock, his whole world....and I'm pretty damned good at it!
Can't teach the deaf to hear or blind to see...
Just like you can't teach the unabused what abuse is and how damaging it really is. I've been having a really tough week, not as a mother, but as a human and a damaged adult. There was an incident I read about, involving two family members of an online friend and the friend. The incident is not mine to tell but what resulted from it was an explosion was verbal abuse directed at a teenage boy. It had been said that the father of the boy had a military mindset and I say "bullshit". Mac is a military man and he'd never talk to Nixon like that.
As I sat on the floor of our living room, trying to tell Mac of the whole thing, I felt the tears welling up and I knew, this was striking too close to home for me. I shut down and walked away.
Parents are supposed to build their children up. They are supposed to be a constant source of love and support, an unwaivering cheering section to an almost embarrassing level. Not the ones who destroy the child's self-worth and self-esteem. A parent shouldn't tell a child he/she is stupid or worthless or call him/her a mistake or worse. And believe me, there are far worse things a parent can tell a child.
It's especially hard to explain this to someone who's never heard a negative word from a parents lips directed to them. How do you tell someone who was told "I love you" by his/her mother and father every day, what it was like to be called a piece of shit for no reason daily by the person who gave you life? How do you make that same person see that those words hurt more than the actual physical abuse and that those words left more scars than the physical abuse?
I tried to help the boy in this scenario this week. I tried to help the friend dealing with him, by giving her tips for talking to him after the incident, as an abused adult survivor. It fell on deaf ears and it broke my heart because she, like lots of other people when faced with situations like the one she was faced with, wanted to believe it was a one time thing and it couldn't possibly be as bad as what I went through. Because no one ever wants it to be as bad as what someone else admits it was for them.
Even now, my family members say they wished they had known how bad it was. Yeah, me too.
I think I may have found a passion though. I may actually want to work for some kind of abused child support group. I'm not sure how to work at finding one, but I'm sure military bases have a large need for one. All I wanted to do was tell this kid, a boy I've never met, and most likely will never meet, it's okay his dad is wrong and he is not worthless. His dad is messed up and has issues and the only way he can feel good about himself is to make everyone around him feel less about themselves. It's not right but its doesn't mean he has to believe anything his dad is saying to him to be true. I wanted to cry for the damage that's already been done to this kid and all the years of trust issues he has ahead of himself, because of his dad's hateful angry words! It made me want to verbally rip his dad a new asshole, because oh yeah the one thing most verbally abused kids learn how to do is to use words to hurt other people, trust me I'm pretty damned spectacular at it when I need to be, but it will NEVER be directed at Nixon. In fact, I aim to never do it in front of Nixon because I don't want him to ever think it's acceptable to verbally hurt people, its just another form of bullying and bullying is wrong in any form.
This friend said it's okay, it was a one time thing and quick no thought reaction to the situation and the dad apologized and even said "i love you", so everything is okay now. See that's the thing. I always got the "i love you" too. I stopped believing the words, they meant nothing, they were just the words that began to follow "I'm sorry". And I always wanted to believe it when he said it'd never happen again, but it always did. I never dared tell anyone the truth though, because then I'd be the reason my family was broken and ruined. It was bad enough I was the reason he did and said those things to me, did I really want to break apart my family too?
See that?? That's the thought process I had and went through every time someone asked me if I was okay. Even if it was undeniably NOT okay the answer had to be something close to yes or sure because otherwise my dad was right and I would be responsible for ruining my family. Sucks right? You have no idea. Unless you've been there in which case, you do have an idea and you too would know what it feels like to recognize the signs of a less the good situation, try to help and then be rebuffed because "dad" says its nothing and it was the first time it ever happened. But that's the trick. The reaction that happens when someone doesn't "think" is usually the most common reaction.
I have no scientific proof to back it up, only my own experiences.
As I sat on the floor of our living room, trying to tell Mac of the whole thing, I felt the tears welling up and I knew, this was striking too close to home for me. I shut down and walked away.
Parents are supposed to build their children up. They are supposed to be a constant source of love and support, an unwaivering cheering section to an almost embarrassing level. Not the ones who destroy the child's self-worth and self-esteem. A parent shouldn't tell a child he/she is stupid or worthless or call him/her a mistake or worse. And believe me, there are far worse things a parent can tell a child.
It's especially hard to explain this to someone who's never heard a negative word from a parents lips directed to them. How do you tell someone who was told "I love you" by his/her mother and father every day, what it was like to be called a piece of shit for no reason daily by the person who gave you life? How do you make that same person see that those words hurt more than the actual physical abuse and that those words left more scars than the physical abuse?
I tried to help the boy in this scenario this week. I tried to help the friend dealing with him, by giving her tips for talking to him after the incident, as an abused adult survivor. It fell on deaf ears and it broke my heart because she, like lots of other people when faced with situations like the one she was faced with, wanted to believe it was a one time thing and it couldn't possibly be as bad as what I went through. Because no one ever wants it to be as bad as what someone else admits it was for them.
Even now, my family members say they wished they had known how bad it was. Yeah, me too.
I think I may have found a passion though. I may actually want to work for some kind of abused child support group. I'm not sure how to work at finding one, but I'm sure military bases have a large need for one. All I wanted to do was tell this kid, a boy I've never met, and most likely will never meet, it's okay his dad is wrong and he is not worthless. His dad is messed up and has issues and the only way he can feel good about himself is to make everyone around him feel less about themselves. It's not right but its doesn't mean he has to believe anything his dad is saying to him to be true. I wanted to cry for the damage that's already been done to this kid and all the years of trust issues he has ahead of himself, because of his dad's hateful angry words! It made me want to verbally rip his dad a new asshole, because oh yeah the one thing most verbally abused kids learn how to do is to use words to hurt other people, trust me I'm pretty damned spectacular at it when I need to be, but it will NEVER be directed at Nixon. In fact, I aim to never do it in front of Nixon because I don't want him to ever think it's acceptable to verbally hurt people, its just another form of bullying and bullying is wrong in any form.
This friend said it's okay, it was a one time thing and quick no thought reaction to the situation and the dad apologized and even said "i love you", so everything is okay now. See that's the thing. I always got the "i love you" too. I stopped believing the words, they meant nothing, they were just the words that began to follow "I'm sorry". And I always wanted to believe it when he said it'd never happen again, but it always did. I never dared tell anyone the truth though, because then I'd be the reason my family was broken and ruined. It was bad enough I was the reason he did and said those things to me, did I really want to break apart my family too?
See that?? That's the thought process I had and went through every time someone asked me if I was okay. Even if it was undeniably NOT okay the answer had to be something close to yes or sure because otherwise my dad was right and I would be responsible for ruining my family. Sucks right? You have no idea. Unless you've been there in which case, you do have an idea and you too would know what it feels like to recognize the signs of a less the good situation, try to help and then be rebuffed because "dad" says its nothing and it was the first time it ever happened. But that's the trick. The reaction that happens when someone doesn't "think" is usually the most common reaction.
I have no scientific proof to back it up, only my own experiences.
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